Page 58 of The Broken Note

Viola’s still watching me with angry eyes.

“What?” I ask, spreading mustard on the bread.

“You’re not keeping any more secrets from me, are you?”

“No.”

“I can’t even trust you when you say that.” She scoffs. “You lied about mom being dead. You let me believe what you wanted me to believe. I was completely in the dark.”

Vi’s in a mood, but I’m too tired to keep my frustration at bay. “What did you want me to do, Vi? Did you want me to drag you into the room while mom laid out this stupid plan and convinced me it was for the best? Did you want me to bring you along while she showed me the corpse I was supposed to report to the police? Did you want to lie to the authorities with me? Did you want to burn someone else’s mother? Someone else’s sister? Someone else’s friend? Did you want to live with the guilt that brings? Did you want to let that part of yourself that still believes there’s good in the world die all together?”

Her eyelashes flutter. Her eyes fill with tears. “I wanted you to trust me! I wanted you to share your freaking burdens and stop acting like you’re the only one who can sacrifice herself!”

“I didn’t want you to worry—”

“I’m not a child!” She flings the words at me. Hot enough to scald. “And you’re not my mom.”

Usually, I’m indestructible.

But my emotional defenses are down. The words hit their target.

“I’m going to bed.” I shove the plate at her. “Eat. Don’t go to bed hungry.”

“Cadey…”

I saunter to my bedroom and shut the door.

Mom might sneak back in tonight and I want her to see me. I want to look her in the eyes and ask why she did that. I want to ask why she didn’t just abandon us in an orphanage to fend for ourselves rather than dragging us into this hellish world with her. I want to ask why she even bothered having kids in the first place.

My mattress creaks when I sink my weight into it. I curl my body forward, literally incapable of lifting my head. There’s a big weight on my chest. It’s too painful. Too much.

My eyes slide to the keyboard in the corner. It’s so worthless that mom didn’t bother trying to pawn it. Easing off the bed, I stumble to the ground, plug in my headphones and let my fingers stroke the keys.

Silence shudders and dies.

Music fills my ears.

My own creation. My own twisted beast. I form it from nothing but my own pain and torture. Dark, pulsing notes. Lashing chords. A song that’s all about bleeding and destruction. It twines with my heart and gives me energy when I had none before.

I play until my fingers start throbbing.

Then I stop.

Spent.

Limp as a dried rag.

My legs have fallen asleep, so I can’t even stand. Undeterred, I crawl into bed and pull my phone off the dresser.

It’s time.

I text Jinx.

I’m in. Tell me what you want me to do.

* * *

Jinx: Trade a secret for a secret. In the deepest caverns of Redwood Prep, the royals reveal their secrets. What is Jarod Cross hiding in the dark? Inquiring minds want to know. But watch your step, Cadence. Those who dig holes to bury their secrets won’t like those graves disturbed.

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